A pale face materializes out of the darkness. A body forms with it, shifting in and out of the void. The man gazes at you with eyes as deep as eternity.
"Some call me Morpheus. Some say Oneiros. I am dream incarnate and keeper of stories. Everyone has their own story, and you are no different. I have come to you to ask that you accept my story of you, so that I might at last see how it ends.
"So, mortal, will you be my theatre for the night?"